"Beef stew" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... the bookshop was a small lunchroom named after the great city of Milwaukee, one of those pleasant refectories where the diner buys his food at the counter and eats it sitting in a flat-armed chair. Aubrey got a bowl of soup, a cup of coffee, beef stew, and bran muffins, and took them to an empty seat by the window. He ate with one eye on the street. From his place in the corner he could command the strip of pavement in front of Mifflin's shop. Halfway through the stew he saw Roger come out onto the pavement and begin to remove ...
— The Haunted Bookshop • Christopher Morley
... my revery and plans for future sight-seers by announcing supper. The meal was limited in variety, but generous in quantity, and consisted of a dried-beef stew, fried potatoes and cocoa. A satisfied interior soon dispelled all our previous apprehensiveness. We decided not to run our rapids before we ...
— Through the Grand Canyon from Wyoming to Mexico • E. L. Kolb
... one bite did I have. That was when I knocked the tattooed man down with a war club and got a sandwich he was gobbling. The manager fined me all my salary; but salary wasn't what I was after. 'Twas that girl. I'd give my life for her, but I'd endanger my immortal soul for a beef stew. Hunger is a horrible thing, Jeff. Love and business and family and religion and art and patriotism are nothing but shadows of words when ...
— Heart of the West • O. Henry
... night—-"carrying the banner." Sometimes he slips into a saloon where they have free lunch and picks up a piece of bread here and a piece of cheese there. Sometimes he is lucky to fill in on a beef stew, but very seldom. ...
— Dave Ranney • Dave Ranney
... looked at us with curious expressive eyes that peered roguishly out from under their heavy hanging cabbage-leaves of ears. In one corner was the field-cooker. The cooks were busy making dixies of bully beef stew. Their clothes were dirty and greasy, so were their arms, bare from the shoulders almost, and taut with muscles. (p. 221) Through a path that wound amongst a medley of agricultural instruments, ploughs harrows and grubbers, the farmer's daughter ...
— The Red Horizon • Patrick MacGill |
